Éclair’s first date would be her last—and it was going so well before she died!

Swallowed up by the Earth and dragged deep down to The Dark: Éclair tumbled toward Oblivion… or Worse. Spitting fire all the way to Hell: she fell, fell, and—Lurched!

—To an abrupt halt.

Caught midfall, and suspended in Limbo, a glowing grey prompt appeared at the centre of her still-spinning vision—And compelled she answer one question on a five-minute countdown to Uncertain Fate:

[What do you most Wish for?]

An Éclair wished for Love, and was reborn as Core of Lust; a supersapient coalescence of crystallised Mana steeped in Sin!

… And it wouldn’t be so bad; if the Invaders didn’t just keep on coming!

((In late conversation with The Great Divorce, The Monkey’s Truth in Paw, and Frame Stories told before Dawn; to whom, most precious of all: My Dear Friend, whose smallest opinion matters more to me than this insignificant Earth—You, so Dear to me a Friend, find this my Will, and I return again—Always, and for a time.

Yours, Truly If-Too-Late, Dina.))